


'Til Death Do Us Apart

by trashcans_anonymous98 (lindigo)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Angst, Character Death, Gen, Genocide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindigo/pseuds/trashcans_anonymous98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chara is in love with death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til Death Do Us Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if this passage seems pretentious. Lots of people say I do write that way. This is just how I believe Chara would think about the events of Undertale.

Chara is in love with death.

Death is a friend. Ironically, it makes her feel alive. It understands her. It quells the ravenous rage inside, if only for a brief but blessed time. Death _soothes_.

Chara takes pride in the art she creates with destruction. The layer of dust that covers her from head to toe, she relishes it. A symbol of dedication. The bond that ties herself to annihilation. An attachment, one that she would never wish to relinquish. Who would? For death is merely the act of progression, is it not?

The death of family. The death of childhood. The death of innocence. They signal a new age, of hatred and malice but no pain. Pain, suffering, agony, they are all figments of the past. Signs of weakness that should be eradicated, stomped down to pave the way for emptiness, coldness, the resting bed of obliteration. In this state, she is powerful. Untouchable. Her mind is a desolate wasteland.

Nothing thrives.

Nothing lives.

Nothing hurts.

Death is advancement. Is she so wrong for attempting to allow people to experience the same invulnerability? She has seen the monsters of the underground. She has watched their weakness fester, bloom, flourish in their ignorant naive state of mind. There was a dire need of education.

Education through demonstration. She thought they would’ve learned by now the deficiency in their ways. But as she stood next the dust pile that was her former demonstration partner, she watched the monsters crumple into wails of despair, tears streaming down their face, and she snarled. Why did they cling to their fruitless, senseless ways? The evidence lay before them that their ignorance of the ways of the world were deadly. And yet they still grieved, screamed, clawed at the ground. Disdainfully, she narrowed her eyes at the sobbing monster that was huddled at her feet. The species of the underground would not survive in the natural order.

She was not a monster.

She would be merciful.

She would destroy.

 

 

 

And then she met him.

A lone diamond in a pile of coal. He was the weakest of them all, yet somehow had the most power. He was a deficiency. A mistake. A glorious, magnificent mistake.

He disrupts the natural order.

He threatens her in the most raw way imaginable. He lives and dies like her. He is an opponent. A legitimate challenge in what is supposed to be a rigged game.

 

Oh, how she _adores_ him.

 

Rejuvenation. He brings back the life in the game. He represents hardship, turmoil. A tempest of misguided destruction. He carries pain, anguish, all the feelings she had once resented but now cherishes because it had been so long.

He is the last obstacle.

He is the only obstacle.

He is the reaper.

And she LOVES him.


End file.
